Worth The Effort
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: Sequel to As The Masks Crack. Tsuki Busho's parents, who went MIA in the Land of Water during the Third War, are re-investigated after the Mizukage shares intel with Konoha as a gesture of goodwill. For his friend, Kakashi takes an envoy to Mist to see what they can learn. They'll meet with more trouble than expected... Eventual KakashixOC. Warning: PTSD and allusions to rape.


**Chapter One**

* * *

 _ **"Scars we carry...carry with memories, memories burned by the dark..."  
**_

 _ **~Scars, Tove Lo**_

* * *

Tsuki Busho hated mornings.

There were many things she hated. She hated sunshine. She hated milk chocolate, hated sweet tea, and she hated young couples. Particularly the latter, but even they could not begin to compare to the absolute loathing she held for the sun in the east and the light on the clock that read 'A.M.' When toddlers' television programs were still airing and the corner coffee shops hadn't run out of scones, when non-nocturnal birds were chirping and the sky was the shade of blue you only saw on the cheapest jeans, and when the only Busho in Konoha was not gracing the streets with her presence… that was morning.

And Tsuki hated mornings.

The Sixth Hokage was about to get an earful. Because more than anybody, he knew. Oh, he knew how she cherished her early hours and her sleep. He knew how she never missed her breakfast.

But did that stop him from summoning her at 7 o' clock? No.

She threw the door to the Hokage's office open with a little more force than was necessary. The two men standing inside jumped, and a few papers fluttered from the desk to the floor. The only other woman present, however, remained unruffled.

"Tsuki-san," the Hokage's assistant greeted with a curt nod, adjusting her glasses over her orange eyes.

Tsuki, once more, pretended the color 'orange' didn't exist, and nodded in return. "Riko."

The brunette among them put a hand over his heart and chuckled good-naturedly. "Ms. Tsuki! Good morning!"

She curled her lip. D*** Iruka Umino for being a morning person. He did many things wrong, but that was the worst. Couldn't he at least pretend to be as miserable as everyone else?

"Far from it," she countered, turning her glare on the third and final person in the room.

Kakashi Hatake dared to give her that stupid crescent-eyed smile of his and wiggle his fingers in the most ridiculous wave he could manage. "Hello, Tsuki-kun."

She grit her teeth, and spoke slowly. "You're being less intelligent than usual today. You took me away from two hot sticky buns and the blackest, richest cup of coffee in Konoha. What, pray tell, could possibly be so important that you would so willingly ruin the rest of my day?"

He had the decency to look a bit sheepish. He hummed and hesitated and scratched the back of his head. "Well, believe it or not, we have a good reason."

Tsuki raised an eyebrow. "We?"

He nodded, and with a subtle smoothing of his brow, she watched the bashful mirth utterly vanish from his visage. Suddenly, he wasn't the dork Kakashi. He was the Rokudaime.

"Come in," he said. "Shut the door."

Something serious, then. Well, this was new. And Tsuki got the feeling they really did have a good reason. Gently, she latched the office door behind her and then strode further into the office. The dim light welcomed her, as it always did. It was how Kakashi kept it—even while reading; the stupid man never worried about ruining his eyesight.

"Surprise me," she said. For a moment, she wished the office had a set of chairs for visitors who would stay a while. As it was, she had to settle for shifting her weight to one side and folding her arms over her chest.

"You know that we've been communicating with the villages of the other Great Nations individually since the end of the war, in hopes of establishing treaties with each of them, correct?" Kakashi leaned his elbows on the desk top, steepling his fingers.

Tsuki nodded. "This isn't about the Hidden Cloud again, is it?"

Iruka gave a humorless laugh while Kakashi shook his head.

"Granted, there are still issues regarding Cloud," the Hokage said, "but that's not why we're here. This is about Mist."

"The Mizukage recently signed the Konoha-Kiri Armistice," Iruka elaborated, splaying his fingers over one particular document laid out on the desk. "In addition, as a gesture of goodwill, she relinquished hundreds of hardcopy files to our intelligence department—anything regarding relations between the Leaf and the Mist in the last hundred years."

Tsuki's eyebrows climbed high. She glanced about the room, taking in the unholy amount of boxes stacked in every available space—she hadn't noticed them when she came in. Through the holes in the sides, they all appeared to hold neat sheafs of case files packed in manilla envelopes.

She gestured with a half-hearted raise of her hand. "That's what all this is?"

Kakashi nodded. "She gave us everything, it seems."

"Let me guess," Tsuki sighed. "You want help going through it?"

He chuckled, but shook his head. "No. That's what paperwork ninja are for, and why we even called Umino-san in. This is just storage space, here. However, in going through some of it last night, Iruka and Kotetsu found—ah, Riko, where did that get put?"

"Right here, sir." The assistant withdrew a single page from her clipboard and passed it to Kakashi's waiting palm. The page remained stiff, despite the loose hold. Something thick, then.

"We found this photo," he said, setting the page on top of the many others spotting his desk. "It wasn't an instant recognition, but we couldn't ignore the resemblance."

Tsuki frowned. This sounded ominous. What could it be? A long-lost Hatake relative? Somebody linked to the war? She stepped forward, and peered at the picture.

Her stomach dropped, and in a single moment of weakness, her mouth slackened.

A man's face stared back at her, devoid of the joyful luster that she had only ever seen in his expression. His blue eyes, turned grey by lack of colored ink, stared hollowly back at her from under a black fringe that was longer than she remembered.

 _…Where did you go?_

Too long. It had been too long for it to affect her this way.

She snapped her mouth shut, and raised her head to stare Kakashi in the eye. He watched her closely. He knew already, but he wanted her to confirm it. So she sucked in a silent breath, and shut her emotions off.

"Tadashi Busho," she said, as if she were about to launch into a mission report. Cold. Detached. Easier. "That was his name. Last seen, he was thirty-five, married to Ume Busho, father to one child. A daughter."

Kakashi nodded. "You."

She dropped her gaze. It lingered over the photo before landing on the floor. "Mm. They went MIA when I was… thirteen."

"In Mist?" Iruka asked.

She shrugged, a sloppy motion. "No idea. I wasn't told anything more than that. If the military knew more about their disappearance, they didn't feel the need to disclose that information."

"Given the staple marks on this photo," Riko interjected, gesturing to the piece of paper in question, "it might've been attached to a file at one point, but there's no way to tell which one now."

"So we had an idea," Kakashi said. Then he frowned, leaned back in his chair, and glanced at Iruka. "You did call him as well, didn't you?"

"Yeah, he said he'd be in shortly…"

Kakashi sighed. "I suppose I can't complain about a man being late, can I?"

Iruka snorted. "No. No you can't."

"Who?" Tsuki asked, frowning between them.

"There aren't too many surviving relatives of the Busho family." The Hokage scratched at his ear. "It was just you and one other person."

Something cold flowered in Tsuki's gut. One other person… No, they couldn't mean him. Why would they?

"Your mother had a cousin who still lives around here," Iruka explained. The cold spread across Tsuki's abdomen, into her chest. "Uh, Ren…" He searched through a few of the papers on the desk until he found the one he was looking for, and pulled it up. "Ren-"

"-Matsuoka," she mouthed along with him. She wanted him to say something else. Anything else. Now would've been a good time for her to find out she was somehow secretly related to Might Gai.

Anyone but Ren Matsuoka.

"According to his records," Iruka went on, heedless, "he was actually your sen-"

The door opened behind her. She froze. For a moment, she wondered if she was actually here. The others went on like any normal people would. They greeted him, he greeted them. His voice… it hadn't changed at all. Why couldn't it have changed?

Maybe she was still at home. Maybe she'd fallen asleep over breakfast again. She wanted to wake up. But she knew she wouldn't. But for once, couldn't it all just be a hoax? A dream?

No… not a dream. Her dreams were wicked. Cruel. Horror films in her head.

 _Breathe,_ she told herself. _Just… Keep your head. Don't react. Never react. It was two d*** decades ago, just-_

"Tsuki."

The cold, that ice in her veins, filled her lungs, made each beat of her heart throb in her head. He sounded so… normal. Her jaw clenched. What gave him the right?

A large, warm hand rested on her shoulder. The ice exploded in her chest. The shudder shook her from head to toe.

"I just wanna say how sorry I am-"

He was speaking to her. He was _touching her_. His hand, calloused knuckles and short nails. Right there. Squeezing her.

Weight. Fists, probing fingers, liquor-laced breath. Cold pavement, rocks in her back, dark, so dark, stop, _stop, stop it, it hurts…_

 _Get off me._

Her teeth ground together, her jaw strained, she whirled. No thoughts. Not yet. Not until-

Her chakra-slathered palm met his sternum. He'd left himself wide open. Too easy. He shot across the room, careened into three stacks of boxes, disappeared against the wall. Files flew. Silence followed.

 _Stay away from me._

The hiss of her breath in her own ears came to her first. She sucked in air like she'd been drowning. Almost hyperventilating. Her heart pounded, the ice was making her tremble. She could feel it… all over again…

 _Did I kill you?_

No. She hadn't. Even her subconscious, unfortunately, had more control than that. She was ANBU.

But…

Somebody was speaking, yelling. Ren didn't yell. No, it was Iruka… Something about the mess. She looked around—mess, the mess? Oh, the mess… the files… and a hole in the wall…

"…Oh g**…" She sucked in a deep breath, her body at last telling her how much she needed it. Her hands—they were shaking. _Stop, stop shaking… mask… put the mask back on._

Something under the avalanche of files moved. So he was still alive. D***.

What was she doing?

She'd lost it. That never happened. Lost it, in front of the Hokage no less. The Hokage, her friend. She looked like a fool, an overemotional, unhinged fool. She'd kept that lid on for so long—so long without incident—she'd actually begun to believe she had gotten better. Buried it. Over, done, behind her.

She could live with the nightmares.

Why did he have to be back?

 _Humiliating…_

She turned on her heel, and marched for the door. She needed air. She needed out. She needed to regather the pieces of her mask, so she could come back with some semblance of control. Otherwise…

No. She'd get it back. She slammed the door behind her. Her steps stopped, her hands, still shaking.

She needed it back, couldn't live without it. Her mask was all she had.

* * *

Kakashi had known Tsuki Busho a long time. Granted, for half of that time, they hadn't exactly been on good terms. She was an unruly subordinate, and he was the captain who was indirectly responsible for her premature discharge from the ANBU. But thanks to many late night conversations just the two of them in a graveyard (funny, where you make friends), they'd managed to get past that.

In all that time, he'd never known her for her violent reactions. No, reacting to things was too much trouble. It was so much easier for her to simply sigh and bemoan her troublesome life after the fact. To lash out in the moment would have meant she actually put stock into the thing she was reacting to. It meant that that thing meant enough for her to dredge up the effort to respond.

So—what was Ren Matsuoka that Tsuki would palm-heel strike him across a room?

Obviously nothing good. And it had him a little concerned.

The Sixth Hokage kept his steps light as he meandered down the hall, away from his office. Iruka could handle debriefing Matsuoka. He was professional and knew enough about the current circumstances to give the retired shinobi a decent idea of their plan. There was no way, however, that Iruka could handle an upset Busho woman. Last time, that had ended in Iruka spiraling into an existential crisis when he was only twenty-one.

Lesson learned: never interrupt Tsuki from her food and proceed to pry into her business.

Thankfully, she didn't have food now.

 _Though, I did call her away from her breakfast…_

Kakashi shook his head. He doubted she'd be thinking of that now. Not after an eruption like that. If he knew her at all, she was berating herself for looking like a fool.

Because heaven forbid she appear human.

Using skills as old and familiar to him as his fellow ANBU, Kakashi followed Tsuki's turbulent presence to the roof of the Hokage tower—a conventional place to sink deep into thought with no one else around. Though, such sentiments seemed a bit too whimsical for Konoha's resident ice queen.

Into the daylight Kakashi ventured, squinting against the rising sun as it glared over Hokage Rock, streaming down across the village in sparkling beams of gold. The sky beyond it glowed a rich, lively blue, a testament to the early hour. Under his mask, he made a face.

 _Oh yeah… mornings._

He resisted a weary moan and instead, squinted across the roof in search of his reason for stepping foot outside at this hour.

At the center of the rooftop, she lay spread eagle on her back, staring into the sky. She looked like a beached starfish. As far as he could tell, she hadn't reacted to his appearance—though, there was no way she didn't sense him coming. If he had kept his ANBU habits well-oiled over the past decade, she had no doubt maintained hers as a way of life.

She looked rather peaceful, now, watching the single cloud in the sky drift away on an atmospheric wind.

"So," he said, shattering the stillness, "do you want to tell me why you just not-so-Gentle-Fist-ed a man into my wall?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and moseyed over to her, standing just so he blocked the sun from her face.

She rolled her icy eyes dramatically, not bothering to look at him as she spoke.

"It's nothing," she said.

"Because nothing puts a six-foot hole in the office plaster." He flopped down without decorum— _screw being Hokage; I'll sit where and how I want to_ —and leaned back on his palms, watching the same lazy little cloud putter its way across a periwinkle backdrop. "I would've thought you'd at least put more effort into your stereotypical subject dodge."

She scowled in his direction, and he allowed himself a chuckle. Right on target, as always. It was fun being the reasonable one, now and then.

He gave her shin a nudge with his foot. "What's wrong?"

Kakashi wasn't a nosy person by nature. No, he was a firm believer in 'to each their own' so long as it didn't hurt or hinder others in the same pursuit. He did, however, take his role as a friend quite seriously—despite what others tended to say otherwise. He just had different ways of showing it. Like trying to make sense of a usually-sensible friend's illogical actions.

 _Maybe it's just a bad time for her right now…?_

Slowly, she propped herself up on her elbows, sending him glares all the while. He just gave her his eye-smile. If he wanted answers, he couldn't let her sense his concern.

Tsuki sighed, bracing her elbows on her knees as she sat cross-legged beside him, slouching horribly. She'd always had terrible posture. She blamed her body type.

"Like the professor said, Ren was my sensei," she began, curt and to the point, like giving a mission report. He supposed that was better than nothing. At least she hadn't broken down sobbing—now that would've meant the world was ending. "It's nothing, really. Just… He had some creepy friends who liked cute little girls. They'd do things and he never lifted a finger to stop them. I think he was a bit of a perv himself…"

For the briefest of moments, the reason seemed sound. Obnoxious pervy jounin, who creeped on children… _actually_ creeped on them, were certainly something to hold a grudge against. Especially if this Ren fellow excused the behavior.

But then… Kakashi hesitated. Something about that curt explanation didn't add up. It didn't seem like Tsuki, for sure. Especially since he had watched her handle creeps like a pro during their time in ANBU. Granted, it had been a long time since then… but she hadn't changed so much.

What was he supposed to do? Call her out? _That wouldn't be rude, would it? Not with her…_

"Is that all?" he prodded—quietly enough, so as not to seem nosy.

She frowned, turning to glance at him sidelong. "What do you mean? Of course 'that's all'."

"You don't usually err on the violent side," Kakashi explained with a shrug.

It didn't add up. Her actions in the office with her explanation here. But she wouldn't lie… Lying took too much effort, unless she was getting paid for it.

He'd watched the blood drain from her face when Ren Matsuoka spoke in the office. He'd seen her eyes go vacant. He knew that look and what it meant. It was a look every survivor knew by heart. And seeing it again after so long concerned him.

"That was humiliating," she sighed, bracing a hand over her eyes like the light was giving her a headache. Maybe it was. "I didn't mean to do that…"

"Obviously." Kakashi watched her closely, as she lowered her hand and leaned her head back to again seek solace in the blue canvas above. He'd never heard that phrase—'didn't mean to do that'—come out of her mouth. Ever. Tsuki Busho was the coldest, most controlled person he knew, and she never apologized for her behavior. Except once. And the circumstances were quite different.

He was now seventy percent sure she was avoiding something. He hadn't the foggiest idea of what it might be… but she'd never so obviously dodged an explanation. He thought for sure he'd be able to get a clear answer.

It couldn't be 'nothing'. No matter how she insisted.

The question now was what to do about it?

He could push the issue. Poke and prod further, letting her know he smelled something amiss and wasn't about to let it slide. But he wasn't that ambitious, or prying. He certainly wouldn't appreciate somebody doing that to him.

So he could let it lie. That would probably be the better option at this point… as curious as it was, Tsuki would likely be of no further help. When she decided to be stubborn, she locked herself shut like a bear trap. He'd need a metaphorical crowbar just to open her jaws an inch or two. And neither of them needed that right now.

But that wasn't necessarily a solution… only a temporary one. So what then?

With another mental phrase, a grim smile ghosted over his face. Of course, he was the Hokage. If this had something to do with her sensei, he had easy access to every archive in the Leaf Village—the ultimate authorization. All he had to do was track down the information…

Yes. That would do it. Tsuki didn't even have to know.

"What are you thinking?" her words had a pointedness to them, a hint of distrust, and Kakashi nearly choked. He'd pondered in silence for too long. Of course she'd notice.

He cleared his throat, and made sure he sounded casual. "So… does that mean you'll reimburse the wall?"

The pucker fell from between her eyebrows and she cast him a much more familiar dry stare. She pursed her lips, pondering. Then, with a long sigh, she closed her eyes.

"Fine."

With that, they drifted into one of the first awkward silences between them in a decade. It had been a long time since a conversation had left them in this state. Kakashi decided that he hated it. He had no idea what to do with it, it wasn't natural.

He always kept things like this light, casual… Gravity made him uncomfortable unless it was absolutely, positively necessary. That could very well be what she wanted.

But if that was the case, then the cause had to be pretty bad… And he didn't like the idea of her shouldering something serious by herself. He knew all too well what that felt like, and it was a living Hell.

This was a friend. A friend who had just been triggered by a man Kakashi invited into their midst. It made him feel cruel.

Even if he couldn't have known something like that would happen.

 _Stop thinking. You're hurting yourself._

What was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry'? She'd probably reject that. She'd made it clear she didn't want to make a big deal of it. That, and such a trite, commonplace phrase wouldn't mean much to her, isolationist being of logic that she was.

So again, he returned to his previous line of thought. He'd remain silent, despite his concerns, and look into it later—before they left the Leaf. It was currently his best course of action.

Action? Should he do something?

Ah! He had it.

"He doesn't have to come," he said.

She glanced at him, frown reasserting itself on her features. "Come? Come where?"

Oh right, they hadn't gotten the chance to explain it all to her. He gave a sheepish laugh. "Ah… the Land of Water. That's why we summoned you. I thought we might take a small expedition to see where this lead about your father takes us."

"Oh…" Her frown grew thoughtful, eyes darting and sifting through unseen things beyond her vision. "…Do you really think we'll find anything?"

He shrugged. "It's a possibility. It wouldn't hurt to investigate and see what we turn up."

Slowly, she nodded. She turned away, looking out over the brightening village, where people had begun making their ways through the streets. A group of children scampered through the city square directly below, oblivious to their watchers.

"It's fine," Tsuki said at last.

Kakashi glanced at her, mildly confused. Was it fine that they investigate, or-?

"He can come," she elaborated. "Like I said: it's not a big deal."

Slowly, he nodded in return. He didn't believe a word. "I see…"

Her eyebrows twitched up a little. For a fleeting moment, the barest hint of a smirk quirked the corner of her lips. "This might actually be the first mission we've gone on together since before you left the Black Ops."

Kakashi chuckled. "I think you might be right. It does feel like a long time ago…" He sat back, staring up at the sky above again, where the sun had risen even higher above the Hokage Rock.

"Do you miss it?" she asked.

"Hmm… You know what? I really don't."

She laughed, and it was a great thing to hear. "Gone soft, have you?"

"Maybe. Just a little."

"I hear raising genin does that to you."

Kakashi smiled fondly at the idea. It was true, though; those kids had changed him on a fundamental level… He glanced at the kunoichi beside him. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you miss the shadows?"

She pursed her lips, pondering. "Sometimes… It was my life, you know? …until you got me fired."

Kakashi withered under the pointed accusation. "It's not my fault you didn't follow orders."

"I don't follow stupid orders."

He snorted. "I never gave you stupid orders. The higher-ups wanted to make sure we didn't have any blossoming psychopaths in our ranks."

"I know, I know…" A beat of silence. "…But I wasn't a blossoming psychopath."

"Ah, but we'll never know."

She chuckled, leaning forward to brace her elbows on her knees. "If that's the case, you had as much potential for psychopathy as I did, Mr. Cold-Blooded."

"One learns to hide these things."

"Oh, is that so?" With a shake of her head, she rolled to her feet and stood, again gazing out over the city of Konohagakure. "Well, your secret's safe with me, psycho."

"Why, thank you kindly." He sat upright with a grunt, and raised a hand toward her, palm up in supplication. "Ugh… Help an old man to his feet?"

Her eyes, not so icy now, rolled again before she clasped his hand firmly. "Keep calling yourself old and you'll start believing it."

"I get more sympathy that way," he grunted as she helped him up.

"Maybe I should let you fall."

"You're so kind." He steadied himself as soon as he was able, just before she released his hand.

"Funny man." With one last smirk, she took the first few steps toward the door that led back into the tower. "I suppose we should go back to the office… You can debrief me on the way."

Ahh, everything seemed to be back to normal. And yet, Kakashi held onto the suspicion that had taken firm root in his mind.

 _This can't all be because her ex-sensei and his pals had issues. It doesn't make sense._ It was too small a thing for somebody like her… If a person in her vicinity had a problem, she ignored them to Kingdom Come. Their issues were their issues, and she never invested in someone else's bad habits. It wasn't quite so 'live and let live' as much as it was 'I've got my own problems to deal with'.

So why was she avoiding them now?


End file.
